Smile
by SacredAir
Summary: Tag to 8x04 -Royals and Loyals. TIVA One-shot. Drabble-esque.


**A/N: So here's another Tony/Ziva one shot – to be honest, I can't complain with the Season 8 Tiva moments so far (…though there could always be more ;) )**

**This one-shot is a tag to 8.04 – Royals and Loyals, and is actually quite drabble-esqe, in the sense that I started writing it two hours ago and have now finished it. Therefore, there may be some mistakes, it may not sound quite right, and may be slightly cheesy in some parts (or I could be being paranoid). Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please leave me a review if you would be so kind, tellimg me what you thought.**

If she was honest, Ziva would have to say that rather than angering her, the notion of someone hacking into her email unnerved her. Although not a person to put her trust one hundred percent into technology anyway, her mind could not help but wonder, every now and then, whether the little information and correspondence belonging to her was being monitored. This was certainly the case at Mossad – she had, along with all other agents, been subject to prying and filtering to ensure she was staying loyal – her father had always made sure his trust in her was limited.

However, when earlier in the week she had discovered Tony, of all people, sitting hunched at her desk ready for a quick escape whilst tapping away at her keyboard frustratedly, the uneasy sensation was due to a completely different cause.

Sometimes she doesn't quite understand why they still sort of keep each other at arm's length. Why, after everything that has happened in the last five years, they continue to dance their cautious, playful dance, riddled with tragedy and loss and many other feelings. It reminds her of the music box her mother had given her as a child – destroyed long ago by rage and bombs and grief. It's as if they have no choice in the matter, they dance all the time, non-stop.

It's much more than that, though, because then there's those moments- simple touches and tender gazes held for just one second too long- where something is clearly begging to be voiced. And almost as soon as the instant arises, it's over, their dance resuming once again. Sometimes she starts to wonder if her imagination is playing tricks on her, that there really isn't more to them than what lies on the surface, apart from an undeniable trust that has been tested many times and has only strengthened.

When it comes to the end of the day, as she finishes off an email to a certain friend in Miami, she glances up to see him. He's just standing there, tired, handsome face displaying a mixture of defeat and happiness that sends her into consternation. And her guilt rises just a little, because she knows that there's only one person that is capable of causing the man to look so broken.

'What?'

Green eyes light up, and he cocks his head to the side slightly. 'I like that there's someone out there who makes you smile.'

And she wants to laugh, because really, he has no idea. Love and jealousy has made him assume things no-one else would assume.

'Yes, there is.' Because he's right, of course. There really is someone who makes her smile.

The light in his eyes dims a little, and she almost feels sorry for teasing him about something so important to the both of him.

'Maybe I can meet him someday.'

She feels her lips curl up into a wider smile, because she's really wishing she could get him a mirror to show him that exact person.

'Maybe. One day.'

_Not today. But one day. Soon._

He grins – and something twists inside of her, because he's letting it go too easy, it's not normal. He's accepted her answer, because he really _has_ changed after five years – perhaps more than her, in a way. For a moment, he appears to want to say something more, but closes his mouth again. Another unvoiced moment.

In reality, nothing needs to be said. His eyes don't shut up.

_As long as you're happy, I'm happy. Even if I can't be the one to make you smile._

Her face flushes as she realizes how much he loves him for that. How much she _loves_ him…

She stands up, swiftly rounding the desk to stand in-front of him. 'Tony, if and when you meet my friend…what will you say?'

Defeat flits across his features once more, but he doesn't hesitate to start answering, grinning as thoughts come to him.

'Um. Be careful.'

She gives him a look.

'Handle with care.'

Maybe she shouldn't have bothered. Maybe it really is too much to ask of him, that he tell her what he would say to this imaginary boyfriend/lover/whatever he's created for her, because then he'd more or less be putting his heart on his sleeve, and in a sense he's more unnerved by the prospect of doing that than she is.

But then something shifts – they're going into another of those instants where his pupils dilate and he sighs softly, as if – for that one moment – he's the happiest man in the world. And she feels it too, her pulse starts to quicken and she leans toward him slightly, silently begging him to not let this moment go unvoiced.

'Contents priceless.'

It happens – and it takes her all of a second to absorb what he's just said. It takes all of her willpower to prevent herself from leaning up onto her tip-toes and kissing him, there and then. But she understands it's a big deal for him to admit what he's just admitted, and she's still not quite ready to respond to his answer either.

_Not yet. But soon._

So she smiles – a big smile, not just with her face, but with her whole body. With everything inside of her tingling and basking in the moment. As she brushes past him, she leans up to look at him, and no words are needed.

_Thankyou._

She chuckles as she enters the elevator and hears the alarms to the network security system go off once again, heading off home with a spring in her step and a full heart.

The next morning, after a near-sleepless night filled with memories of Ziva's smile, Tony enters the bullpen earlier than usual. So early, in fact, that the desk across from him is empty, no rucksack or coat indicating that his partner has arrived.

For one gleeful moment he smirks at the thought that he's beat her to work. Then the guilt of what he did yesterday kicks in, because although he's terrified of what the woman might do to him when she finds out he's been attempting to access her email yet again, he's more angry at himself for not being able to respect her privacy.

He closes his eyes for a moment. He remembers her smile.

_If you're happy, I'm happy._

Upon opening them, he finds his partner sitting at her desk, back straight, staring at her computer screen intensely.

'Good morning, Tony.'

'Good morning, _Zee-vah_.'

He goes to sit down, cautiously, wondering if she's found out yet. There's a small white envelope on his desk, on top of his keyboard. What with is daydreaming, he hadn't noticed it before, and he turns it over to begin opening it. His eyes widen as he reads who it is addressed to.

_To the person that makes me smile._

He glances up at his partner, but she's still staring directly at her work. A ghost of a smile plays at her lips, and his own grin starts to form in response as he reads the letter inside.

_I'm not the only one that's priceless._

_So please, don't look so defeated. You're the only one that makes me smile with my heart._

_I promise that will never change. _

_Love, Z._

_P.S. I hope I make you smile too._

He raises his head and finds liquid brown eyes peering at him. It doesn't even surprise him that she's managed to sneak up to perch on his desk like she usually does. No, what catches him off guard is the tense curve of her neck to the way her eyes shine too brightly. She's scared – scared she's put her feelings out in the open for them to be shoved back at her brusquely. And obviously he's staring at her too intensely or something, because her cheeks take on a reddish tinge.

She's waiting for him to say something.

He holds up the letter tentatively, beckoning for her to lean in closer. Her hair falls around her shoulders, and her scent surrounds him so suddenly he has to force himself not to zone out. The smile on his face is one of absolute contentment – that's how he feels, after all, and he points to the postscript.

'I think you know the answer to that one.'

Ziva's small smile grows bigger, and she looks so relieved – so_ lovely- _ that all he can do is close the gap between them and kiss her, causing her to emit a small squeak of surprise before she responds, kissing him back.

He's in big trouble, because now he's taken this step he knows that he won't be able to go a day without kissing her like this. Not ever.

_If you're happy, I'm happy._

As if reading his mind, Ziva smiles – and for once, he's glad he can't see it.

Feeling it happen against his own lips is definitely a hell of a lot better.

**How did you find it? :)**

**I may or may not be working on another tag for Royals and Loyals (playing on the notion that Ziva's 'Miami Vice' is someone completely different to whom Tony expected it to be) so stay tuned!**


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